


This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)

by spideysmjs



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)
Genre: 5+1 Things, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, F/F, F/M, Fluff, Idiots in Love, Peter Parker is a Dumbass, Peter's Always Running Late, Tooth Rotting Fluff, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-27
Updated: 2019-10-27
Packaged: 2021-01-04 20:14:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,156
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21203414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spideysmjs/pseuds/spideysmjs
Summary: “I don’t think you need a big fancy party and expensive wedding rings to show off your love for someone.”Five times Peter and MJ go to a wedding.





	This Will Be (An Everlasting Love)

**Author's Note:**

> i love weddings and i love petermj. (please don't tell my WIP i wrote another lengthy one shot). 
> 
> title from this will be (an everlasting love) by natalie cole

_**i. nineteen** _

“Can you stop shaking your leg, Parker?” MJ jerked her head to face the tint of red creeping on his face from being called out like a child sneaking a cookie before dinner. But he couldn’t help it because in his 19 years, Peter had never been to a wedding before.

He had never witnessed two lovers promising each other’s hand in marriage _ in real life, _mostly because he had a small family that grew even smaller as he’d gotten older, and the two couples he really looked up to were married before he was even conceived. 

Peter had no idea what to expect, but he was grateful that MJ invited him to be her +1 after debating whether to pick between him or Ned, and even more grateful that Ned begged to not go because he just spent the summer after freshman year of college going to six of his cousins’ weddings. He refused to do the Cupid Shuffle for the billionth time. 

“Earth to Peter?” MJ shoved his arm. 

“Oh, sorry,” he finally answered, placing his hands on his thighs to prevent them from shaking any further. “How long has your cousin been with his fiancé?”

“I don’t know, maybe like two years. Or a little more,” she sighed, clearly unenthused of the entire day ahead of her. Peter knew a few things about MJ ever since she’d allowed to open a small piece of herself up to him and Ned. 

He knew she didn’t enjoy a lot of popular things, and it was never because she wanted to appear _underground – _she just simply preferred murder documentaries over romance, she thought pizza was overrated, defended dark chocolate as the superior chocolate, and didn’t really believe in weddings. Peter had asked her why before, and without hesitation, she responded:

“I don’t think you need a big fancy party and expensive wedding rings to show off your love for someone.”

In a way, she had a point. But her disdain for weddings left Peter kind of bummed, especially because he didn’t really know what kind of attitude carry for the night if she already wasn’t excited.

He liked MJ. He really, really wanted to impress her, but he’d never tell her anyway.

So maybe it didn’t matter.

“That’s a pretty short amount of time being together before getting married, don’t you think?” Peter tried his best at the conversation that was dying out faster than an old iPhone. 

“You know what they say when you know..._ you know,” _she blurted out the cliché as she waved her fingers with the utmost sarcasm. Peter frowned, MJ snorting as she giggled, “Bet they’ll say that at the wedding.”

“Okay, deal.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s make a bet on the wedding clichés we experience,” he suggested a new idea of how to make MJ enjoy herself tonight, so he could hear that laugh that he’d just heard because he really wouldn’t mind being the reason why she laughed like that all the time. 

“You’re on. What does the winner get?” she smirked at him, and wow, he really lost his shit because of her pursed lips, losing his train of thought until she coughed to bring him back to earth. 

"Pride and joy?”

“I am not doing this game just for_ fun_, Parker. I’ve come to win,” she rubbed her hands together as if she had finished plotting an evil scheme. “You gotta do my laundry for two weeks.”

“Bold of you to assume that you’re going to win.”

“You’ve asked the wrong person to compete with,” she _ hmph’d _ as they pulled up to the venue for Vanessa and David’s wedding. 

They had been running late (because of Peter, of course) so, when they stepped out of the car, Peter got a clearer look of MJ in her mauve-colored spring dress, white heels casting her two more inches taller than him for the first time. Away from the dim lighting of the cab, he noticed MJ had a little bit of makeup on, just some blush and mascara and a tint of gloss, and her hair was straightened and pulled back into a low bun. 

She looked so beautiful, like the sculpture of Venus at the Louvre, except she was _real._

“You look really nice,” he offered his arm so they could walk into the venue together. She thanked him and looped her arm around his. 

“There’s a hashtag. That’s one for me,” she slipped her arm out to point at the #OnCloudJones banner arched over the walkway to the ceremony area. After laughing at her discovery, Peter’s shoulders sunk because before he could soak in the victory of having MJ’s arms against his, the moment disappeared. In fact, she had so quickly let go of his touch that it made Peter spiral into an endless stream of reasons why MJ would do that. Stop thinking, Peter. It’s not like this was a date. She called it a date, but it wasn’t a real date - just a way to appease her family. 

“I just need a plus one so my parents can shut up about it,” she tossed the invitation in front of Ned and Peter at the library months ago. “So who’s going to be my date?” 

Ned, who genuinely refused to witness another husband remove his wife’s garter with his teeth, raised his eyebrows at Peter once MJ walked away from the conversation, and suggested that this was the perfect opportunity to make a move on MJ. 

But really, who listens to Ned Leeds, anyway?

“This is Peter,” MJ’s voice took him back to the present as he saw an elder man extend his hands for an introduction. “Peter, this is my Uncle Terry, David’s dad.”

“Nice to meet you, Mr. Jones,” he shook his hands, beginning to pale in the face because it was only then that he realized he’d be introduced to MJ’s entire family, and it’s way too late to go back and say that he was too sick to go. He could throw up. 

“Could say the same, Pete. When my brother told me lil Mish would be bringing a date, I can’t say I wasn’t surprised,” he chuckled, roughly patting the back of Peter’s shoulders. “Though I never imagined Mish to find someone half a head shorter than her.” 

“Uncle…” she grumbled under her breath. Uncle Terry waved a hand above his chest, signaling that he’d said too much, but for Peter, it was just enough.

“Oh, uh, I should probably check on the pastor–enjoy the wedding youngins,” he saluted them and walked away. 

“Sorry about that…” she attempted to push away the ghost of her fringe that’s normally there, forgetting it had been slicked back for the wedding, a sound of shyness in her voice that Peter had never heard before. 

“It’s okay,” he reassured her, eyes glued to his shoes and smiling, only to himself acknowledging that Uncle Terry pretty much assumed they were a couple (!!!). “But that’s one point for me.”

“How is that one point?”

“Aren’t uncles always the most forward people at weddings?”

“That’s just in the movies.”

“Hence, a cliché, MJ.”

“You got me there,” she nodded her head toward the benches so they could find a spot before the ceremony began. 

It turned out that MJ was the rarity of her family in terms of punctuality because the ceremony didn’t start until 45 minutes later, MJ whispering to Peter that it’d been because of the fiancé’s lowkey freak out - according to her other cousin, who was a bridesmaid and the reason why Vanessa and David met in the first place. 

But when the orchestra began to play, and the people in the pews stood up to look at the bride - MJ included - Peter looked to David, whose tears could be seen from miles away, whose gaze at Vanessa was his own personal look, a look that could invent a new word for love. Peter smiled, and when he peeked over at MJ and witnessed her place her hands to hide her smile as her eyes followed the bride walking down the aisle, he declared this _had _to be his favorite part of weddings. 

Even if it was the biggest cliché of them all.

“So I’m up by like 5 points, Parker. You want to give up yet?” MJ snuck behind him and whispered in his ears as he was helping himself to a slice of the unsurprisingly dry, vanilla wedding cake after the happy couple sliced it together (which was the last point he scored when he predicted that David would place a bit of icing on Vanessa’s nose).

“Okay, okay, MJ, I’ll do your laundry. I know you want to win because you’re obsessed with my laundering system,” he licked a bit of icing off his fingers.

“I’m pretty sure laundering is about money, unless you’re trying to tell me you’re stealing from me.” The two of them made their way to Table 7 to sit with the rest of the cousins around MJ’s age, all paired with their significant others. When they first found their seat assignment, Peter’s heart jumped at the way their names were etched in calligraphic lettering in one tag reading, 

_Ms. Michelle Jones & Mr. Peter Parker._

He could have thought about it more in-depth, but MJ frowned at it and walked ahead of him, shattering his hopes and dreams of the small glimpse of a future Peter would never have with her. Almost instantly, however, Peter’s disappointment disappeared when he realized MJ wasn’t frowning at the placard, but at the table full of couples, all cuddling and sharing food with one another. She had a slight frown - unnoticeable if you aren’t looking - but Peter was always looking at her. If he could try to decode her emotions, he would think that maybe there was something more than just the frustration of her cousins’ PDA. That maybe it could be… 

Nevermind. The food sharing was pretty gross. That’s probably what it was.

Peter continued to watch MJ, chin in hand, inhaling and exhaling the fresh spring air at the winery. It was golden hour, and the sun shined on MJ’s skin so perfectly. He couldn’t help but sneak glances at MJ when she’d laugh at the 30-year-old singles trying to flirt with strangers or when she’d grin at the toddlers dancing on the shoes of her older cousins. 

Her family was huge, this evening shedding new light on MJ’s life.

Peter felt warm and full from knowing that MJ, the quiet girl from high school who preferred loneliness, actually had a support system of people who loved her, people who called her Mish and squished her chin and kissed her cheeks and talked about how much she’d grown since they last saw her. This blanket of warmth grew even comfier in his heart knowing that MJ trusted him enough to bring him into this part of her life, a part that no one knew. And yes, maybe she had extended the offer to Ned before, and maybe this wasn’t a real date, but he’d never seen MJ so damn happy in the entire time he’d known her, and, well, that was a dream in itself. 

It wasn’t until Uncle Terry sat down in MJ’s seat when Peter broke his gaze at MJ swing dancing with her older sister.

“You take care of our little Mish, okay?” Uncle Terry broke the silence between them. “I ain’t ever seen her look so happy to be around someone since her second grade boyfriend. And that don’t really count.”

“Oh, I’m sorry - sir - I think you may have misunderstood… We’re not dating,” Peter told the truth, already guilty from the previous encounter from before the ceremony. “We’re just friends.”

“Maybe,” he chuckled, “but the way you look at her… that’s certainly ain’t ‘just friends’,” Uncle Terry raised his champagne glass to toast Peter’s glass of water before downing the cup and walking away. 

The pinks and purples turned to a clear, blue evening sky, and the swing transitioned from upbeat music a slow song to introduce Vanessa and David’s first slow dance as a married couple – another point for MJ, despite the fact that Peter had already committed to doing her laundry. The two observed the dance from their table, Peter never looking away from the happy couple except to peek at MJ from his peripherals, seeing her pick at her nails in between each spin, glide, or dip. 

“They’re so in love with each other,” he poked her and spoke quietly. 

“Yeah, they are,” she looked to him, eyes glistening with a few tears, then looking down again at her nails.

“Are those tears I see?” he teased. 

“Shut up, Parker. A woman can’t tear up at her cousin’s wedding?”

“No… I didn’t say that. I’ve just never seen this look on your face. Especially since you don’t really think weddings are necessary.” 

“Maybe weddings have some points,” she responded, still not looking up. Peter knew there had been something lingering in her mind, something other than the way the fog machines covered the dance floor with clouds as other pairs slowly crept up to join the couple. He didn’t want to intrude on her inner thoughts because he knew by the look of her face and the way she avoided eye contact, she probably wanted to keep those musings to herself. 

“Thanks for taking me to my first wedding, MJ,” he said instead. She finally looked at him and smiled. 

“No problem, Parker. I hope you enjoyed it in all its cheesy glory.”

“Seeing as I am Peter Parker and love cheesy things, it definitely fulfilled my expectations, and hopefully it’s not the last time I get to be at one of these things.”

“You’ll be at another wedding before you know it,” a smile crept upon her lips. “Thanks for coming and making me hate this experience a lot less.”

“You’re welcome.”

A beat.

And another.

“Peter?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you wanna dance?” 

Surrounded by her big family consisting of cousins and significant others, her parents, grandparents, aunties, uncles, and the bride and groom, Peter rested his head on MJ, allowing her to take the lead (but really, she didn’t give him a choice). They swung to the melodic beats of the songs, and he could feel her chest expand in breathing as they stayed in the same position for what was definitely longer than one song.

It could have been the ambiance of the starry night mixed with the fog machine transforming the dance floor into literal cloud nine, or the fact that Peter was let into MJ’s life in a different way than he’d ever been allowed, but Peter knew that - even though MJ had won their little competition of clichés with two weeks of free laundry and gloating privileges - MJ was still in his arms, and he knew at that moment he really hadn’t lost a thing. 

* * *

_ ** ii. twenty-one ** _

When half of the universe disappears for five years, things change - people change. The other half, who were left behind, were forced to move on with their lives for 1,825 days with no sense of hope until the other half returned, to which no one had the answers the very question that erupted a river of mystery between the two sides: what happens now?

But, as the years went on, the universe slowly built a bridge to connect the lives of others again. Fortunately (depending on how you look at it) Peter, MJ, Ned, and many of their peers, returned with each other. They were able to cope with being thrown back into the fast-paced world that continued to spin full of lives that continued to live and refused to wait for them to catch up. 

However, some of their peers were forced to move on, forced to deal with the growing silence of half the population in dread. They had to grow up. One of those people in this list of folks who were more motivated by the possibility of losing life quickly was none other than Liz Allan.

At 26, Liz Allan cordially invited Peter, MJ, and Ned to share her joy in marriage with Lucy Young, the woman she had met in grad school at the University of Portland. It was interesting for Peter, to say the least, to be invited to your first high school crush’s wedding, but rather than feeling bummed out, he was excited. Happy. His crush on Liz was a shared infatuation with Ned, and pretty much everyone in Midtown; he was just lucky enough to ask her to homecoming.

“Remember when you were obsessed with Liz?” MJ was always reading his mind, always knowing when Peter would get lost in himself, and always there to pull him out of it. 

“Everyone was obsessed with Liz,” he rolled his eyes. 

“You’re right. I was definitely obsessed with Liz,” she nodded, fixing the knot in his tie, navy blue to match her dress. “There, you should be good. And you should learn how to do this yourself eventually.”

“And I don’t even get why you’re bringing this up, Em, you know it just makes me feel guilty.”

“If you feel guilty, then you should learn how to tie a tie.”

“You know what I’m talking about.”

“I’m just _kidding_, Peter. It’s not your fault you didn’t realize you were in love with me,” she brushed off the dust on his black blazer. “Actually, that kind of is your fault.”

“MJ!”

“Peter, I love you, you big dork. And I know you love me,” she brushed her hand on his cheek and pressed her lips on his. “You’re going to have to get used to me giving you shit for basically everything.”

“Can y’all stop flirting, or whatever the hell that is,” Ned softly reminded them they hadn’t been alone in the living room. “We’re gonna be late, and I still gotta pick Betty up.”

“We wouldn’t be if this loser knew how to tie his own tie,” MJ slyly murmured under her breath, earning a deep sigh from Peter. But he knew, deep down in her heart, this was her love language, her form of affirmation, and he was okay with it. Because it made her happy, and that in return made him happy. “So Betty, huh, Nedward?”

“What do you mean?” he sputtered. 

“Nothing… nothing…” the two waited for Peter to lock up the apartment before heading toward the two flights of stairs leading to the creepy parking garage where Ned kept his ‘07 Toyota Camry passed down from his Tito Jay. “You have been seeing her an awful ton.”

“We just ran into each other a few weeks ago at the bookstore,” he shrugged. “Then again at the laundromat last week. So I asked her for coffee while doing laundry. And I found out she was invited to Liz’s thingy, and I offered a ride. It’s nothing.”

“_Nothing_,” Peter chimed in as he hopped into the backseat of the car, his assigned seating because MJ argued she had longer legs and deserved more space.

“It’s definitely something. And Ned, please don’t call Liz’s wedding a ‘thingy’ ever again. Just because we’re only invited to the reception, doesn’t make it less of a wedding.”

After ten minutes of Ned begging MJ to not move to the backseat or else _it’d be obvious _and MJ returning with “I thought it was _nothing_” before picking Betty up, they finally pulled up to the venue for Liz and Lucy’s reception - only 10 minutes late. 

“There’s a guestbook, that has to be a cliché,” Peter opened it for them to scratch their names on the second page - turns out they weren’t the last to arrive. 

_ MJ and Peter _ <strike> _ Parker _ </strike>

“Why did you scribble out your last name?” MJ peeked over his shoulder.

“Because it looked like your name was MJ Parker,” he continued to scratch it out. 

“And?”

“I don’t know… I don’t want people to assume things, you know?” he stepped aside to let Ned write in the book. 

“No one’s going to assume anything. And why’s it so bad for people to assume that anyway?” she sped up her pace, leaving Peter, Ned, and even Betty stunned.

It wasn’t a bad thing, not at all. In fact, Peter scratched it out because he was nervous about what MJ would say or think about their names written in a way that made it seem like they shared the same last name. He scratched Parker out for respect, knowing that MJ would never take his last name because MJ, Michelle Jones, is one hell of a woman that always talked about not taking a man’s last name ever since he’d known her.

Ned shrugged and walked ahead of Peter, leaving him standing in the foyer, framed by the lavender tulle hanging from the doorway to the ballroom. Betty placed a careful hand on Peter’s shoulder so they could move into the room.

“MJ’s a lot different from high school now, isn’t she?”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“So don’t keep treating her like she’s the same, bud,” she let her hand go and curled up into her fur coat as they walked to the table of Midtown alumni, MJ already hunched over the table, arms crossed, and distant from the chatter of catching up. 

“Hey,” he sat next to her and bumped his shoulder against hers. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah… I know I overreacted,” she sighed. “I just… I don’t know. I love you, and I got sad because you got all weird about...that... I know you’re always like weird but–”

“MJ, I love you, and I know you love me,” he leaned closer to her to kiss her cheek. “I’m sorry I freak out a lot, but that’s only because I just want to impress you.”

“But you’re already my boyfriend,” she turned to him. 

“Just because we’re dating, doesn’t mean I don’t get to try to impress you every day,” he paused. He wanted to add, _ forever,_ but he didn’t. Not yet, at least.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, Mrs. Liz Allan and Mrs. Lucy Young,” the Master of Ceremony introduced the brides and harmonious applause welcomed them. Everyone watched their first dance in awe, Lucy wearing a floor-length and heart-shaped dress and Liz wearing a white pantsuit as they swayed to Bruno Mars. 

“Bruno Mars. Cliché,” MJ whispered receiving a _ shhh _from Peter, who was too captivated by the way Liz looked at Lucy to really think about any wedding cliché. He laid his head on MJ’s shoulders smelling her almond and honey lotion mixed with her signature perfume, thinking that one day, he could be the one up there with her, hand in hand, looking at her the way he’d always looked at her. It was then that Peter decided he found another favorite part of weddings. 

After the waltz, the speeches, and cake-cutting, Lucy and Liz made their way around the venue greeting the guests, finally arriving at the table with all of her high school friends. 

“I’m so happy you all could make it,” she smiled, “this is my _wife, _ Lucy. Can you believe that? My _wife!” _she kissed her on the cheek. 

“She’s said that to me about 40 times already since the ceremony ended,” Lucy blushed. “I can’t say I hate it. Because I don’t. But I’m going to go see if my grandpa’s okay. I think he needs some medicine, so I’ll leave you to your friends, babe.” 

Another kiss on the cheek and Lucy walked away. 

“Everyone enjoying everything?” Liz asked as she sat down on an empty chair, previously used by Flash. Everyone nodded and showered the wedding night in compliments. “It’s so nice to see all of you.” 

As the small talk died down, Liz turned to MJ and complimented her look - the navy blue dress with matching smokey eyes. 

“Makeup on MJ! It’s like you’re a new woman,” Liz praised her. “When did you start putting makeup on?” 

“Usually just for special occasions. I like feeling good about myself, and Peter’s reactions are kind of hilarious,” MJ teased. 

“Hey,” he frowned. 

“You two are adorable,” Liz placed a hand on her heart. “Since when?”

“About a year and a half ago. At another wedding actually. Funny how that works,” MJ answered. 

“So weddings are your thing,” Liz joked before getting up so she could avoid Flash’s mumbling about seat checks. “Enjoy the night, everyone!” 

The sentence ran Peter’s imaginations wild, creating images of marrying MJ in his head. He could picture it, the way she walked down the aisle with a bouquet of her favorite flowers, them dancing to the beat of his favorite love song (and it would be his selection because _this is the one thing that I’ll have from this, please MJ), _ and just _them. _In a new milestone of their life, promising forever, and making it work. He couldn’t help but think about this moment despite the fact that he knew MJ would rather not. 

These thoughts sent shivers down his spine that shook him back to the present only to see MJ’s weird, tilted look aimed right at him. 

“What’s up, Parker?” she pursed her lips.

“Nothing. I just – I love you a lot, and realizing that the first time we kissed was the night after that wedding… and being here now, at this wedding, well…,” he rambled on trying to explain without unveiling his strong desires of wanting to marry the hell out of her. “I’m just really happy.”

“I love you too. Thanks for being my date again,” she kissed him. 

“I’ll _always _be your date,” he kissed her back.

Maybe attending weddings really was their thing, and Peter couldn’t complain. Never.

* * *

_ ** iii. twenty-three ** _

The third time they go to a wedding, MJ’s a little reluctant, and it wasn’t because of her usual apathy towards them this time, but because they were in the process of moving out of their respective apartments and into their first apartment together. They signed their lease quickly when an affordable offer appeared in the paper, mostly because MJ and Peter started to get the hint that their domestic living style was too overwhelming for Ned. He had been kind enough to never say anything, but they knew it was time to go.

“I can’t believe out of all weekends to need to go to a wedding, it’s our last weekend before you have to be out of here,” MJ groaned, curlers in her hair, still wearing sweats and one of Peter’s old t-shirts. She paced in and out of Peter’s bedroom, moving little boxes into the living room for the move-in truck to pick up bright and early the next morning. “You’re not even done packing.”

Peter, still in bed, watched MJ switch off from getting ready and throwing his things into unlabeled boxes. 

“MJ.”

“You’re not getting ready either. I can’t believe I’m moving in with someone who’s procrastinating like this.”

“MJ.”

“You don’t even care about this co-worker that much, and here I am stressing–”

“Michelle!” 

“What!?” she stopped and shouted, hands on her hips, eyebrows furrowed. He stood up from his position in bed and placed both his hands carefully around her waist. 

“Moving out isn’t a hard deadline, and you’ve already packed all of your things from your place. I can get this done tonight,” he softened his gaze. MJ sighed. 

“But–”

“No buts. Let me pack everything tonight. I’m sure Ned’s new roommate won’t mind that there’s a couple of things in the living room.” 

“You’re not even getting ready,” she rolled her eyes.

“It’s not for three more hours,” he kissed her forehead, her cheek, and her lips. “And I thought you didn’t like weddings.”

“Doesn’t mean I don’t want to look nice,” she mumbled at her toes.

“You do look nice, babe. In fact, you could go outside right now and all eyes would still go to you.”

“I just woke up.”

“And that’s sexy,” he emphasized the last word making MJ giggle. He kissed her again. “After tomorrow, I get to wake up every morning and see you look like this, worked up and stressed about being on time.”

“Peter…”

“It’s so hot. I’m so turned on right now.”

“Peter!” 

“You think I’m kidding.”

“No, I really don't. But that’s _weird,”_ she tried to walk away but his hand pulled her back. 

“We have three hours, Em.”

“I’m literally wearing curlers,” she kissed him, deep and loving, words not matching her actions of desire. 

“I don’t care,” he pulled her back onto the bed. 

They were still late, but to be fair, they were ready to go but the Uber to the church took a wrong turn on the way to pick them up, delaying their trip by 15 minutes. 

“I can’t believe we have to go to this,” Peter leaned against the window of the Uber. It was typically unusual for Peter to dread weddings, but he had just met this nerd of co-worker six months ago, and every one of those days, he never stopped trying to talk to Peter while he attempted to finish his deliverables before the 4pm deadline. 

“But _you’re _a nerd,” MJ sipped her mug of tea one night after listening to Peter complain about him. 

“Yeah, but he’s a dudebro... Like, he seems like the type to misunderstand the meaning behind Princess Leia wearing the gold bikini and calls it sexy. Might as well be Jabba the Hutt,” he grumbled, untying his shoes and taking off his coat. 

“Wow, I love you,” she set her mug down and gave him the biggest heart eyes of her life, a look that Peter had seen over the years but could never get tired of.

Now, as they waited for the Dark Side Wedding to commence, Peter peered around the small crowd of people gathered that day, guests are mostly consisting of who he believed to be family members of the bride considering they were sitting on her “assigned” side—he could relate to the groom. Peter noted to himself that this was the part of weddings that made him feel uneasy.

Despite the slightly off-putting energy his co-worker gave off, he had enjoyed listening to the couples’ vows, gushing at the love that they had for each other. It reminded him why he loved being here, but when he stared at MJ, she had her signature uninterested face painted on her face. He hid the sadness from his face and turned away from her, focusing on the way the husband and wife kissed each other for the first time as a betrothed couple, thinking that this kiss probably wasn’t different from the other kisses that they had shared.

Maybe MJ was right, maybe weddings weren’t a strong representation of what it meant to be in love. Who was he kidding? It wasn’t a maybe because MJ’s always right–and he loves her, loves her more than he wants a big fancy wedding anyway. He intertwined his hands with hers once the couple walked down the aisle, and she squeezed it in response.

The reception was standard at best, but the wedding cake was surprisingly tasty. The couple opted on the black forest, and it was actually moist, and it was dark chocolate so MJ one giant slice for the both of them to share. 

“You gonna try to mingle with your other co-workers today?” she fed him a piece of the gooey cherry portion of the cake. 

“Not more than I have to,” he swallowed the bite. “But are you glad you got to finally meet the people I spend eight hours with every day?”

“Putting names to faces of people who secretly get under your skin is pretty entertaining,” she raised a brow. 

“They don’t all get under my skin! It’s just… hard to make friends in an office setting. I think they think I'm too nice,” he stole the fork from MJ.

“You _ are _ too nice, Peter.” He shrugged at her response because it was true. Why else would he attend a wedding of a co-worker who cracks terrible jokes towards him because of his opposing beliefs on a science fiction movie? But knowing Peter, he just took it as he did with the other shit life gave him.

She rubbed his back in comfort before excusing herself to use the restroom. 

As he waited for MJ’s return, his co-worker, Kyle, approached him temporarily occupying MJ’s spot. Peter straightened his back to congratulate him with a handshake, but Kyle went in for the half-bro hug. 

“Thanks for coming, man,” Kyle tousled Peter’s gelled hair during their hug, making it slightly fluffier than how Peter wanted it to be. He slipped from Kyle’s subtle headlock and laughed. 

“Congratulations, dude.”

“Where’s your hot girlfriend?” Kyle’s remark made Peter uncomfortable for multiple reasons, mainly the idea that Kyle’s calling someone else hot during his goddamn wedding night, and he can picture MJ roll her eyes and say “_men really are trash” _as she walks away from the conversation. But he wasn’t with MJ, and he’s Peter Parker, so he answered his co-worker and stayed at the table.

“She went to the restroom,” he smiled forcibly, ready to leave. 

“You got it good with her–you deserve her,” Kyle said, “wish I could say the same thing about me with Lauren.” 

His sentence stunned Peter.

“What do you mean?”

“Well, I think my wife is perfect. She puts up with my annoying ass, and I don’t know how. She likes to call me out for my bullshit, and I do really try for her. I know I can be a dickhead cause I wasn’t really raised to be proper, but she inspires me to be a better person–her and her family,” Kyle opened up to Peter. “And her family has just… been really good to me. Welcomed me in. I don’t have much of a family, either. Dad left when I was six, and my mom’s the only one out of her three siblings that made it out of Vietnam…

“Life was hard, you know? For her, I think, and she did her best. Wasn’t always there because she had to work to make me and my brother have a better life. But I can’t always dwell on my past you know? Gotta move forward.”

Suddenly, every assumption he had made about Kyle disappeared because there was a part of him that could relate to Kyle. Peter may not have had an immigrant mother, but he understood the feeling of having a small family, of losing a father figure, and of struggling to make ends meet. He looked around at the venue again, realizing that more than half of the people in this room were probably Lauren’s family, and the reset of Kyle’s guests were his _ co-workers _ or _ friends _. A sudden rush of guilt washed over Peter because of his previous reluctance of attending the wedding. But maybe Kyle wasn’t so bad. Maybe Kyle could learn. And from what he said, he was willing to. 

“I have a small family, too,” Peter responded. “For nine years now, it’s just been me and my Aunt.”

“Does MJ have a big family?”

“Yeah. Super huge.” 

“I’m sure they’ll take you in, like how Lauren’s did with me… You’re a good guy, Peter. You deserve a lot of good things,” Kyle patted Peter’s knee. 

Kyle reassured him and reminded him of how happy he was to have MJ in his life, that she was one of the reasons why he’d been so lucky all of these years, to inspire him to be not just an amazing Spider-Man, but a wonderful, shameless Peter Parker. And even though it was hard, even though he put himself last, MJ always grounded him. 

“Thanks, Kyle,” he grinned. 

“I don't know why I just spilled all my bullshit,” he laughed at himself. “I probably should talk to the other guests. Maybe not talk about my entire life story,” he lifted himself off the chair, “but thanks for listening, Peter. You’re really good at that.” 

He got up and met faces with MJ. She congratulated him and he thanked her, whispering something in her ear that made her look at Peter with a slight giggle. When she sat back down, she turned away from Peter.

“Hey, what did he say to you?”

“Nothing important.”

“We shouldn’t have secrets with each other,” he pouted.

“Peter, you didn’t tell me you were Spider-Man until freshman year of college,” she rolled her eyes. 

He couldn’t argue, so he picked at the uneaten frosting of their cake as she stole the last bite.

“This cake is _delicious. _Can we order this sometime?”

“You want a big wedding cake to eat for dessert?” he laughed at the ridiculous idea of Peter and MJ sharing a cake made for hundreds just by themselves.

“Something like that,” she shrugged. There was a silence between them as the DJ played turned up the volume of the line dancing music and the _ pops _of champagne bottles that accompanied the beats. 

“Em?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for being you. And being here. With me,” 

“This came slightly out of nowhere. Is everything okay?” she jokingly peered the room, pretending to search for clues.

He always thought about her and how much he loved her, but for some reason, whenever they were at weddings, whenever he witnessed the way others loved each other, he always felt an immense feeling of gratitude for MJ, as if nights like these were a tug on heart reminding him that this was the woman he’d want to have this with for the rest of his life. So he placed the softest kiss on her lips, tasting the remnants of black forest cake and champagne before saying, “Everything’s okay."

Before waving off the happy couple, the two of them left a gift and letter where the other presents were, signed:

_ With love,  
_ _MJ and Peter Parker._

* * *

_ ** iv. twenty-four ** _

Like clockwork, Peter and Ned were yet again running late to another wedding, and the two could argue back and forth about who to blame, but in the end, it was always Peter. He had forgotten MJ’s red lipstick that she had reminded Peter to bring the night before _and _the morning of. (“It’s either MJ kills me because we’re late, or kills me because I forgot to do the one thing she asked me to do. And I pick the former.”) 

“You’re killing me, Peter, you know baby Cam can’t handle all this mileage,” Ned drove off after Peter spent ten minutes looking for the lipstick in question. 

“You need a new car,” Peter buckled his seatbelt and prepared himself for the ride upstate to the same winery he and MJ had been at five years ago, except this time it was her sister, Melissa, getting married and she had to be there the night before as a bridesmaid. 

“Is it a tradition or something for the Jones to get married at this winery?” Ned asked.

“I think Vanessa’s parents own it, so there’s no cost to booking it, and Melissa didn’t mind if it was the same venue as her cousin’s.”

“Wow, you are very connected to MJ’s family now. No turning back,” Ned teased.

“I don’t want to,” Peter adjusted his tie in the tiny mirror of sun visor. 

“You ever gonna tie the knot with MJ?”

“I don’t even know… Does she even want to marry me?”

“Are you serious?”

“I mean! Come on, she never really liked weddings in the first place before, and, I don’t know… I’d have to make it like… the most special wedding ever, you know?” 

“I guess.”

“What about you and Betty, huh?” Peter changed the subject, to which Ned replied by flipping a bird and a sporting a tint of red to match. Peter looked at his best friend - they had been through it all together. From meeting on the playground in the fourth grade to getting into the same comics and science fiction movies; from confiding in Ned about his identity as Spider-Man to blipping away and coming back. Now, here they were, 24 and on their way to a wedding - which seemed like the normal, adult thing to do these days.

“Wow,” Peter leaned back into the passenger seat.

“What?”

“Nothing – just. You’re really my best friend out here, Ned,” he smiled. 

“You’re my best friend too, Pete,” Ned held out his hand to effortlessly commit to their handshake with his eyes locked onto the road.

MJ didn’t tell Peter much about the theme, color scheme, or anything at all. She complained about her sister’s Type A organization style and the fact that she actually had to walk down the aisle with some random friend of the groom’s. But other than that, she told Peter nothing, not even showing him how the bridesmaids' dresses looked like and ordering Ned to deliver her the lipstick rather than Peter. 

“It’s bad luck to see it before the wedding,” MJ tucked the dress away in their small one-bedroom apartment a few weeks prior when she had lunch with her sister and the rest of the bridal group. 

“I’m pretty sure that’s for when you’re a bride,” he called out from the living room.

“Well maybe this is good practice if you want your own wedding,” she shouted back. 

And surprised Peter was, among other feelings including in love, infatuated, obsessed, amazed, and more. MJ walked down the aisle with a jade green and white floral print dress that hugged her body and a bouquet of red roses tucked in one arm and a groomsman on the other wearing an all-white tuxedo.

She looked nervous to be stared at by hundreds of people, and Peter could tell she had been taking deep breaths as she made her way to the front of the crowd and parted ways with her respective groomsman. When she faced the audience, she looked directly into Peter’s eyes and curved her red lips before giving him a slight nod and wink. 

After the final bridesmaid made her way to the front, the harp strings began to play the tune that Peter’s become familiar with within the past four years. He and Ned stand up with the crowd to watch Melissa walk down the aisle, escorted by both her mother and father. 

Peter was aware he needed to look at the bride - like the others in the room - or watch the groom, seeing the bride for the first time in her wedding dress, but his eyes followed neither. His eyes were locked on MJ, the love of his life, the woman he came home to every night since they moved into their overpriced New York City one bedroom apartment. MJ, the woman he had fallen for, the woman he was lucky enough to have her love him back. MJ, the smart, hilarious, beautiful, sarcastic, and wonderful MJ. 

She stared right back at him, hair curled and swept to the left side of her face, lips plump red and smirking, eyes full of joyful tears, and heart beating just as fast as Peter’s - without question. 

He thought about Ned’s question about whether he was eventually going to tie the knot with her, but he knew now why he was reluctant to answer it. Peter finally realized that, when MJ talked down on weddings, she was talking about the rings, the planning, the money, the cliché tropes, the wedding cake. Because with MJ, it wasn’t about any of those things. It wasn’t just one expensive night shared with family and friends. It wasn’t the overpriced dresses, live bands, or venues. It wasn’t the wedding that mattered to her––it was the promise to be there for her despite her shortcomings, the commitment to a lifetime of happiness.

And they really didn’t need to have a wedding for that. 

Peter understood this clearly, and the sentiment stuck with him throughout the entire night, as they stared at each other throughout the entire ceremony, as they held hands when Melissa danced with her husband, as they laughed at the line dancing and cake battle, and as he listened to MJ’s speech for her sister.

“I don’t typically do this public speech thing - so if my voice starts shaking, I apologize in advance. I remember vividly when I was six years old and Melissa was 12, she forced me and my friends to play wedding. She dressed us up in her different dresses, told us to walk down the aisle with stuffed animals, and had us listen to a popular YouTube video of someone officiating a random couple. She also had us carry her toilet paper dress tail to the reception.

“Back then, she was marrying a TigerBeat poster of a celebrity she begged me to not name. But now, 18 years later, she’s marrying the love of her life, Aaron, with whom I have never seen Melissa happier. Melissa met Aaron when she was 23, and she told me about it the night she came home during spring break. She told me that she had met the hottest guy ever, and not only was he hot, but he also asked her questions. About herself, her life, _ everything_. 

“She told me, ‘Mish, you know you’ve found the perfect guy when they spend most of the conversation learning about you because they want to, and not because they get something out of you at the end’ and she asked me, ‘Do you know what it’s like to lay in bed and fall asleep thinking about the same person every night?’ and I nodded, and she said, ‘Me too. And I’m going to marry him.’

“Ever since that night, I had no doubt Aaron would be the person my sister would walk down the aisle for. Because in their six years with each other, I have never seen my sister love so deeply, laugh so loudly, and cry so passionately about anyone or anything. I have learned to admire their relationship so, so much throughout the years, watching them argue over what to eat for dinner but also watching them move in such a synchronized way. They are the reason why I believe in love, believe in soulmates. I wish the two of them a lifetime of happiness, and I hope to God that everyone in the world can experience the love that they do.”

Both Peter and Ned wiped tears from their eyes as MJ made her way toward their table. As she approached her best friends, she shook off the nerves from speaking in public. 

“You big saps," she called out, tears in her eyes as well, “How did I do?”

“That was _ beautiful _MJ. Can you officiate my wedding?” Ned set the napkin stained with tears back onto the table. 

“If you’re serious, I guess I could,” she gave him a fist bump then turned to face Peter, who still had tears streaming down his face. He couldn’t help but be engrossed by what she had said in her speech, and how he could feel the love that Melissa and Aaron had for each other just through her words. “What’d you think?” 

“It was amazing, Em. I think you’ve made these speeches my favorite thing about weddings,” he leaned into her waist to give her a hug from his seat. She grinned and pulled a chair next to him. 

“Thank you for coming to this, even if you technically weren’t my date this time,” she grabbed his hands. “Every time I got nervous, looking at you made me feel a whole lot better.”

“I told you, I’ll always go with you to these,” he peppered a few kisses on her hands. “And watching at you today… I realized you really are the most beautiful and amazing person I have ever known, and I swear I’ll do anything in my power to let you know.” _ For the rest of our lives. _

“I love you,” she fixed his collar that was slightly out.

“I love you more,” he stared down at her hands on his neck. 

“Wait a second,” she paused. “Did you learn how to tie a tie?” 

“No,” Ned interrupted, mouth full of his leftover salmon, “I helped him.”

Peter frowned at Ned exposing him and crossed his arms. “I’ll learn one day, I promise.”

“You’re making an awful lot of promises here, Parker,” MJ lifted her eyebrows. 

“And I’ll keep all of them.”

During their slow dance, Peter swayed MJ side to side and as he led her into a slow dip, he glanced across the room to Uncle Terry, who raised his eyebrows and a glass of champagne with a smile on his face and his heart on his sleeve, and Peter smiled back, thinking back to the conversation they had in that same ballroom five years ago. 

* * *

_**v. twenty-five ** _

Watching your best friend get married is, in short, surreal.

To witness someone you’ve known for more years than you didn’t walk down the aisle and live through one of their biggest milestones was indescribable. Being a part of the entire process, though as much of an (endearing) pain in the ass Betty Brant could be, was an entire experience in itself. 

It was safe to say that the “Ned Leeds and Betty Brant Holy Matrimony Experience” was the longest wedding Peter and MJ had to attend–considering they held the titles of Best Man and Maid of Honor, respectively, and were involved with the entire planning process. And the actual wedding day was the rewarding icing on top of a very stressful, complicated, and intense cake. 

The Experience™, according to Betty’s to-do list, went something like this: 

> _** 1\. The venue, the decorations, and the music ** _

“The wedding will be on Friday, June 26, 2026: 6.26.26,” Ned explained, “So we have a little over a year to do all of this. Luckily, I already booked the Brooklyn Botanic Gardens way before I proposed to her. And the decorations–

“Will already be easy to handle, since we’re in a garden,” Betty continued, “and we just have to pick–"

“A centerpiece. We were thinking it had to match the color scheme, and since it’s summer, are you both comfortable with wearing–

“Bright orange. That’s going to be the accent color to the flowers, and probably the color of the bridesmaid dresses, with the complementary colors of mauve and red.” 

“You’re so good at picking colors, babe.”

“Thanks, babe. So, MJ, you’re clearly my maid of honor. So you’ll be a part of the planning. We’ll meet once a week for updates, along with the other bridesmaids which include my two sisters, Cindy, and my college roommate Beth.” 

“And Peter, you’re clearly my Best Man. I don’t have as many close friends as Betty over here, but luckily, I got a lot of cousins and Flash.”

“_Flash_?” MJ and Peter gasped, realizing that this was the first word they could say after walking inside Betty and Ned’s apartment after the big proposal (Like literally right after, at 11pm on a Thursday night because Betty texted 911!!! to their group chat). (And yes, Peter crawled through the window dressed as Spider-Man) (And yes, he asked Betty to never text that ever again). 

“I literally needed one more person,” he shrugged. “He’ll get a kick out of it!” 

“Great,” Peter slumped on the couch. 

“It’s okay, we can all watch him make a fool of himself trying to take over the DJ,” Ned snorted. 

“We’re _ not _having a DJ, Ned.” 

“Babe–”

“No.” 

“Okay, fine. But we’re asking the band to play line dancing music because that’s what my entire Filipino ass family is all about, okay?” 

“Deal. So,” Betty placed her hands on her hips, and Ned put his arm on his shoulder. “You two ready for this?” 

Peter and MJ exchanged glances, communicating _ holy fucking shit _without a shift of the face or a sound of distress, smiled at the fiancés, and said, “Yes.” 

> _** 2\. The wedding dress, the bridesmaids dressing, the tuxedos** _

Betty dragged MJ and the rest of her bridesmaids on a witch hunt for the perfect dress. There were three requirements: heart-shaped, tulle, and poofy. After four stores, seven bottles of champagne, and countless of dresses later, she found _the one._

It met her requirements, her budget, the shock factor, everything. Perhaps the bunch was incredibly drunk and giggly (which MJ admitted to Peter later on that she actually really enjoyed), but the dress was nonetheless a jaw-dropping piece of clothing that would shock the masses. 

And yes, that was how Peter described it verbatim when MJ sent him a photo of Betty in it. 

> _ ** 3\. The invitations, RSVPs, the seating chart ** _

“We need to send the invitations out at least 8 months before the wedding date, and have them RSVP no later than April 1st, so we can get the right catering and organize the seating charts for Betty and Ned to finalize,” MJ said, properly addressing each of Ned and Betty’s guests on the envelopes. 

“You’re starting to sound like Betty,” he shook his head, carefully watching her etch the names in calligraphy, face full of regret for admitting that she had started learning calligraphy in college for her notes. 

“Oh, please don’t say that, Peter. I love her, but I’m so, so exhausted. It’s only been 3 months, and we’ve had like, seven meetings,” she finished writing The Bautista Family’s invitation and shook her hands from the cramps. “I am so damn happy my only best friends are you, Ned, and Betty, so I never have to do this hard labor ever again for free.”

“Bold of you to assume we’re best friends,” he snorted. 

“I’m going to kill you,” she tossed an extra ball of tissue paper at his face. (He let it hit her, despite his sharp senses). 

> _ ** 4\. The catering, the officiant, the hotel bookings for long distant relatives** _

“Welcome to the last collaborative meeting with us,” Betty opened the door to their apartment. “We are T-Minus one week until the Big Day. Everything from now on must be taken seriously.” 

Peter smelled the stress in the room, with orange juice and champagne set on the table attempting to mask away from the chaos of pre-wedding jitters. Ned was pacing around the kitchen, a glass of 90% champagne, and 10% orange juice in hand. 

“My three cousins from the Philippines decided last minute that they could go to the wedding,” his pacing tensed. “I can’t say no because they already bought their tickets, but I didn’t book enough room, and they’re insisting they can all squeeze into one hotel room that was only booked for one family, and I just–” 

“Nedward, they can stay at mine and Peter’s,” MJ walked over to him and held him still. “Your shaking is making me nervous. It’s fine. Breathe with me.” 

“When are they getting here, bud?” Peter jumped in. 

“Thursday, which is the rehearsal dinner too, and their flight is immediately before, so I can’t pick them up because I have to be getting ready, and so do all of you.”

“It’s okay, it’s okay. I’ll ask Aunt May if she can pick them up from the airport and drop them off at the apartment. They can stay in the living room, no biggie. It’ll be fine,” Peter reassured him. “Everything is going to be okay, Ned.”

“Peter, you’re my hero. No pun intended.” 

“I also convinced Betty to add extra plates to the catering orders, so we’re all good,” MJ gave him a tight hug. 

“Thanks, MJ. You’re a hero, too.”

“I’m aware,” she grinned. 

> _ **5\. The vows, the bachelor/bachelorette parties, the rehearsal dinner** _

“Wow.”

“Peter, are you crying?” Ned asked, flipping over the two pages of chicken scratch he’d written down, all dedicated to Betty.

“And what about it?” 

“Did you get me a stripper?” Ned asked folding his poorly dealt hand of poker cards.

“Did you want a stripper?” Peter threw in a few chips.

“Not really.”

“I gotta go make a call.” 

“Thank you all for coming, and we will see you all tomorrow at 12pm sharp,” MJ ended the rehearsal.

When the wedding party and the select family members filed out of the room, Ned, Betty, Peter and MJ took one community breath and sat down. 

“You both ready? Last time you’ll see each other before the big day,” Peter smiled. 

“Actually… we are. And we both wanted to thank you for putting up with our asses,” Ned smiled. “So we–”

“Decided to gift you with these,” Betty dug through her Kate Spade purse and handed Peter and MJ an envelope.

“No, guys, you shouldn’t have!” Peter placed both hands on his heart, grateful for his best friends, while MJ snatched the envelope and opened it up, revealing a couple’s spa coupon. “Or maybe you should have.” 

“We love you both so much,” Betty said, “and you know we’re ready to do the same for both of you when the time comes.” 

Peter smiled down at the ground, refusing to look at MJ. But if he had turned around, he’d see that she was smiling, too. 

> _ ** 6\. the wedding day ** _

On June 26th, 2026, Ned and Betty walked down the aisle, listened to their officiant (who, unfortunately, wasn’t MJ, but she swore to write a very good Maid of Honor speech instead), exchanged vows and rings, and kissed to promise each other their forevers. 

Peter never took his eyes off MJ during the ceremony, and she shared the same attitude. Both of them cried, and MJ wasn’t even afraid to admit it. 

Unsurprisingly, the #LeedTheWayToLove wedding was full of all of the clichés that Peter and MJ have come to learn throughout the years of attending weddings: 

The way Ned’s face lit up when Betty walked down the aisle in her _perfect _wedding dress, Ned’s Titos making a drunken speech at the reception that disrupted the flow of the itinerary, the damn hashtag, the cake fights, the line dancing, Bruno Mars (a la swing band), and every little detail they’d miss.

Except, this time, Peter and MJ didn’t make fun of the clichés, they didn’t use it as a game to see who would be doing either’s laundry–they basked in them, they celebrated them, and they watched their best friends fall even more in love with each other because of them. Celebrating his best friends’ marriage turned every cliché into everything that made a wedding wonderful.

And being there with the woman he’s been in love for eight years was a culmination of every first kiss, every love at first sight, every I love you’s, and every sweet dream - it was overwhelming.

A good overwhelming.

So, as they were face to face on the dance floor at their fifth wedding, Peter’s eyes glowed brighter than ever before, staring straight into MJ’s. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” she squinted her eyes with affection.

“I always look at you like this,” he answered, not exactly lying because his heart eyes for MJ were pretty much close to permanent. 

“I guess…” she took a deep breath before speaking again. “Can I ask you something?”

“Always.”

“When we get married, can we please make it the least complicated thing in the world?” 

“You want to marry me?” he blinked.

“Are you serious?” she stopped swaying.

“I thought you didn’t like weddings.”

“You are the biggest idiot I’ve ever loved,” she shook her head at him.

“What do you mean?” She shook her head again, and pulled aside, away from the couples on the dance floor. 

“What were we going to do, just _not_ get married?” she laughed.

“You told me that you didn’t think people needed big fancy parties and expensive rings to show off your love for someone.”

“A marriage doesn’t have to have a big fancy party! When I said that I meant I could literally get married at the courthouse and be satisfied. And I said that years ago. We’ve been to so many, and I don’t know, it cracked me,” she pouted.

“But you hate clichés, cheesiness, all of this.” He lifted his arms are twirled_. _

“But I love you_, _and I know you love me,” she brushed her hand on his cheek. 

“I’m sorry I’m an idiot,” he frowned as he kissed her hand. 

“The idiot I want to be with for the rest of my life.”

“Michelle Jones, Are you proposing to me?” 

“Don’t tell Ned and Betty – I don’t want to steal their thunder,” she whispered. “But we’re going to have to do this properly again. Is that a yes, Peter Parker?”

He wanted to smash his head against the wall for not reading her hints and clues about wanting marriage and for thinking wedding was the same thing as marriage in the first place. It was an embarrassing revelation, a revelation that took way too many weddings to get to. He wanted to roll his eyes at himself for refusing to believe that MJ didn’t want a proposal or a marriage. But most of all, he wanted to marry MJ then and there on the spot because despite being quite possibly the most embarrassed he’d been, his love for MJ ran deeper as he smiled and said, “Yes.”

* * *

_ **+1. twenty-seven** _

“Dude, stop fidgeting,” Ned said, relaxing on the chair of the crowded venue dressing room. “You’re driving me crazy.” Peter looked at his best friend through the mirror and frowned because he’s about to marry the love of his life in front of people who mean the world to him, so _ no, _he can’t stop fidgeting. 

“He’s just nervous,” Aunt May appeared behind Peter, dusting off the lint on the arms of his black tuxedo, tears ready to burst at any moment. But of course, that wasn’t the first time she had cried about her nephew getting married. She had cried the night they got (officially) engaged, she cried again when they first started to plan the wedding, last night after dinner rehearsal, and almost every moment in between. 

“May, please don’t cry again, or else I’m going to cry again and then you’re going to cry some more and–”

“I’m not going to cry, I’m not going to cry,” she braced herself. “You are so handsome!” 

“5 more minutes,” Kyle walked through the door after checking in with the guests and making sure everyone had arrived. After spending five years working together, Peter had warmed up to Kyle, who held himself accountable for past remarks he used to say, so much that he became Peter’s second and only other groomsman, next to Ned. 

“Thanks bud,” Peter tightened his tie for the fourth time. 

“You ready?” he punched Peter softly. 

“As ready as I’ll ever be. I wonder if MJ’s just as nervous.” 

“Nah, she’s not. She’s been ready to marry you since my wedding.”

“What?”

“When you and I had that talk, I saw her and told her that she should marry you. Then she laughed and said she was just waiting for you to realize it.”

“Of course she was,” Peter placed his heart on his chest. 

He never thought this day would come with MJ. It was mostly due to him being an oblivious mess and never quite registering the hints MJ would give off or realizing that his girlfriend was as equally (if not more) in love with him as he was with her. She was the one, this he was certain about, had been certain about since before he was certain she even felt the same way. 

“It’s time,” Ned checked the watch on his wrist and stood up. “See you down the aisle,” he offered one more handshake before Peter finalized this new milestone and became a changed man, a married man. Kyle and Ned filed one after the other to meet up with Betty and MJ’s sister. As the door closed behind them, all there was left was Aunt May and him. 

“I’m so nervous, May,” he confessed. “I don’t know why. I haven’t felt like this about the wedding the whole time we’ve planned it… but now I feel like I’m going to throw up.” 

“Sweetie, everything will be okay. It’s just another day,” she kissed his forehead and offered her arm to guide him to the garden where the ceremony took place. They stepped outside to face the New York City air, a very slight breeze with the sun shining down and clear skies that Peter was convinced made for him and MJ that day. 

When they reached the front, Aunt May pinched his cheeks before making her way to a seat reserved just for her at the very front. Just as he positioned himself in front of the officiant, the music paused for a moment before playing the wedding theme that Peter’s heard many times before. This time, it was different because everyone he loved stood up to turn around at _his _fiancé, it was different because when the familiar beats rang through his ears, he felt as if the song was written for them, and only them. 

In fact, it felt like the world around them disappeared right before his eyes only leaving the image of MJ, in the most perfect wedding dress, curly hair tucked underneath her veil, walking down the aisle with a bouquet of dahlias in her hands. His heart swelled, remembering the first time he had visualized this moment nine years ago, with MJ right by his side in the same venue. 

He couldn’t stop smiling as she made her way forward, gave kisses to her parents before they sat in the two empty seats next to Aunt May, and stepped right in front of him. 

“Dearly beloved…” 

“It is now time to exchange vows. Who would like to go first?”

Almost automatically, MJ raised a finger to her nose, leaving Peter no option but to read his vow before hers. The crowd laughed. Ned leaned forward and slipped the paper that Peter had worked tirelessly on for an entire week. Unlike Peter, MJ had a way with words; she was always reading and she majored in English, and this was probably the easiest thing for her to write.

So he took the piece of paper in which he spilled his emotions into, he inhaled before he speaking. 

“I love you, MJ. And I know I say that every day, almost every time we have a conversation, but I mean it every single time that I do. Because when I say I love you, it’s not just those three words. It’s nine years of being with you. It’s the sound of your laughter when you make fun of me. It’s every time you read my horoscope in the morning and every time you kiss my nose before we sleep. It’s so many things I can name about you because when I say I love you, all I think about is you. And now… I didn’t even know this could happen, but… this I love you will mean more after today. This I love you is a promise to love you, forever. A promise to love you on your good days, bad days, and okay days. A promise to keep always, forever, for the rest of our lives...” 

And as he uttered the final bits of his vows, MJ had a new look on her face, a look hidden behind the veil, as if the look was reserved just for Peter, a look he could never describe because you just had to be there to see it, and had to be him to understand it. 

Betty leaned in, handing MJ the sheet of her vows. 

“I never believed in weddings. I never thought that they were necessary. I never understood why I had acquired such a distaste for them, and then I realized it was because I had never known anyone that would make me believe in them until I met you, Peter. Nine years ago, in this same wedding hall, you offered to be my plus one to a family wedding. We didn’t know how we felt about each other at that time, but I remember one moment vividly that changed my mind. The bride was walking down the aisle, and I looked at you watching the groom, and I thought to myself, this is the moment that I would want to experience. And sometimes, I still can’t believe I get to experience this with you because it has always been you, Peter. And I can’t wait to show you my love for you every day.” 

They looped their wedding bands around each other's fingers. The room was quiet, but everyone’s hearts were full. 

“I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may now kiss the bride.”

All of their guests were seated in the ballroom as Peter and MJ stood in the foyer, hand in hand, leaning against the wall. 

“We really did it, Parker,” she sighed. “We’re married.” 

“That we are, Em,” he kissed her cheek and teased, “and it was the cheesiest thing ever, wasn’t it? How’d you get through it?” 

“Well, I realized at the ceremony, that the wedding isn’t really for us. But for everyone else who loves us.”

“That is very true,” he turned to face her. “You know, ever since weddings became our thing and we’ve been to five weddings - six now - and I always found a new favorite part every time.” 

He thought about the bride’s walk to the groom, the first dance as a married couple, the speeches, and everything in between. Turns out, he just loved weddings and everything about them.

“So, what’s your new favorite part of this one?”

“Hmm. I think I’m over weddings now.”

“Yeah?”

“Can’t really top this one.”

“True. We have to find a new hobby, then, since you’ve self-appointed our retirement from these thingies,” MJ placed her hands on her hips.

“How about, the rest of our life? Can that be a hobby that we do?”

“I think that’s what this night was for, Pete,” she caressed his face. 

“Oh, wait. I just remembered. I know what my favorite part of tonight is,” he kissed her hand. 

“What is it?”

“Your face when I tell you that this,” he gestured to his tie, “was done all by myself. Not to brag or anything.”

“Wow,” a genuine rush of excitement escaped MJ’s voice. “You are good at keeping your promises."

“You think we should go in there right now? We’re already late.”

“We’re always late. But maybe we should go in. Probably before Uncle Terry makes a drunken speech.” 

“Or they start dancing the Cupid Shuffle without us.”

“Or start eating the surprisingly delicious wedding cake.”

“No, not the cake,” Peter playfully panicked. “God forbid another couple other than us put the icing on each other’s nose.”

“Oh, no we wouldn’t want that.”

“Did I ever tell you how much I love you, MJ?” 

“You only wrote your entire vow on it, but I mean, you can keep going,” she grabbed his hand again. 

“Thanks for being cheesy with me for a night. But there’s one thing I want to thank you for the _most_ about.”

“And what is it?” 

“Thank _ god _you didn’t want a hashtag.”

She gave him a kiss. 

They walked towards the entrance of the ballroom, waving at the DJ to introduce them before they entered the room full of their loved ones.

Peter saw Vanessa and David feeding each other appetizers at the table full of MJ’s cousins, all doing the same thing. He looked over to the table full of his high school pals and saw Liz and Lucy praising the centerpieces and color scheme. He turned to the bar and saw Kyle and Lauren sharing a cocktail and at the open bar, his animated eyes, and her fond smile. Near the center, he saw Aunt May chatting up a storm with MJ’s parents, sister and brother-in-law, and Uncle Terry. And finally, he saw his two best friends, bickering over their last few plans as Maid of Honor and Best Man. 

There was nothing Peter would change about this moment.

He saw a sea of people that have been bound together because of Peter and MJ. Within the past nine years, he had watched love among others, and tonight, he was able to finally experience the feeling he’d been longing for since he fell for MJ. He was ready to walk in, to show his gratitude to his loved ones. He offered his arm for MJ to loop hers around, leading her into the venue as he heard the Master of Ceremony say,

_ “_Please welcome, Mr. Peter Parker and Mrs. Michelle Jones _ Parker.” _

**Author's Note:**

> Comments/kudos appreciated!
> 
> Twitter: @spideysmjs   
Tumblr: @briens


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